WorldMatch
by BritishTraveller
Summary: Arthur Kirkland has recently gone through a bad break up. What better way to get him out of his depressed state than to set him up for Online Dating! He soon hits it off with an attractive American doctor, but what happens when he wants to meet up with Arthur? Recently rated M; USUK with friendly FrUK.
1. Chapter 1

**The Start of It All**

Arthur Kirkland was never one for relationships. Public displays of affection made him feel physically sick and he despised how a couple could look so dreadfully happy while sticking their tongues down one another's throat. How could anyone find that socially acceptable? Arthur Kirkland certainly didn't. Now, Arthur hadn't always been a stick in a mud. On the contrary, he had been a very outgoing, romantic, lovable young man until recently after a terrible breakup with that _bitch _from down the hall. Even just seeing her mail sticking out of her post box on the ground floor of the apartment block made him want to punch a wall. _"You're so sweet, Arthur." "You're just too nice, Art." "It's not you..." "I slept with Gilbert." _God; he fucking hated her. After a year of dating the blonde bimbo, he had surprised her with champagne and red roses and had booked a table for the two at an overly expensive restaurant down town. Only, he had waited all night for her in her own apartment, and when he finally left at 11 o'clock, he found her outside snogging the hell out of some brunette tanned guy - and didn't even notice Arthur was there! She came clean the next day. It wasn't just the brunette guy, but five others Arthur had been too stupid to pick up on. And _Gilbert_ for God's sake! His own friend!

So when Arthur's other _friend _\- if he could even call the blasted French man that - suggested he tried Online Dating, Arthur promptly laughed in his face and burst into tears not a second later. The 'bitch', as the pair decided to rename her, had "sucked all of the love" out of Arthur. (Quote Francis.) The 5'9" Brit was a shell of the man he used to be, and didn't even attempt to sort out his unruly blonde hair that had grown to cover his wonderfully bright green eyes on his way to work. Two months after his devastating break up, Francis had booked Arthur in for a hair cut. (He had also tried to book a spray tan, but after a swift backhander, he immediately called back to cancel.)

Arthur felt much better when he paid the barber, and surprised himself by smiling. It felt much better to feel fresh and free, and the Brit and French man went straight to the pub for a quick pint before setting up his account on **WorldMatch**. He felt his heart rate quickening as the blue background loaded and their slogan of _'Meet your_ _match online...Anywhere!'_ sped across the screen and stopped beside a moving GIF of a globe. Francis swiftly moved the mouse to the 'Sign Up' button, and rapidly typed in Arthur's information. "Your email is still KirkyK91, right?" Francis asked with a snigger, and entered it anyway. He uploaded a handsome picture of Arthur in a white shirt grinning, with a drink in his right hand and his old watch on his left, tilted to the right with a white, crooked smile. He was outdoors by the lake, sunshine lighting up his soft features. You could see his bright green eyes that were framed by thick eyebrows and long lashes, and he looked extremely cheeky in his pose. Perfect. With a charming profile that described him as, 'Bright, funny and wears matching socks,' Francis was extremely confident that Arthur would be receiving attention in no time.

Two days had passed since the account was set up, and so far Arthur had received 10 pokes. **WorldMatch** was set up so that you could view anyone's profile and see their description, but you could only communicate through pokes until the other had accepted and messaging may begin. Arthur had accepted way back that he was interested in both men and women, and fully showed that on his profile to try a bit of variety. Unfortunately, seven out of the 10 pokes he received were from women Arthur found no interest in, and even less so when he read their descriptions. The other three were men, one from Francis - supposedly to test whether it was working or not, though you never could trust the man - and the other two from men he had never seen before. One, Arthur found, was an architect working down in south London, while the other was a doctor living in the states. The second appealed to Arthur straight away, and he declined the poke from the architect faster than you could say _Mississippi Mud Pie._ Mississippi Mud Pie was, coincidentally, one of poker number two's favourite desserts.

So, after a pregnant pause, Arthur finally found the courage to have a real look at this man's online profile. "Fuck," Arthur cursed as he scrolled through, "this guy knows what he's doing..." Arthur worked in a hospital just as this mysterious man; so that was something to talk about at least. Arthur was the head nurse in his department, and knew just how straining it could be. After having a snoop around his profile, the Brit found out the man's name. Alfred. That was the guy's name; Alfred. Arthur found himself saying it over and over, blushing at how nicely the name left his pink lips.

The first time he saw this _Alfred's _picture, his heart stopped. It couldn't be him; he was too handsome! Mouth agape, the other stared at his image for a long time, just taking him all in. He, in the picture, was stood by a tall pine tree by a forest, wearing a white t-shirt with shorts and hiking boots. On his back sat a backpack and he had a jacket tied around his waist, grinning at the camera with such a dazzling smile that Arthur found himself smiling too. His face was chiseled where Arthur's was more soft, and he was taller than Arthur from what he could tell. He was a broad man with built up shoulders and Arthur knew he must be fit and energetic. The more Arthur looked at the picture, the more attractive he found the American. Tanned, sun kissed skin with golden wheat hair and blue eyes; stunning. With a dry mouth, Arthur poked him back, and hoped it wasn't a mistake.

The next day, Arthur checked his online profile. _You have 5 new pokes._ Five? Arthur was surprised and checked it. One more from Alfred! He dismissed the others (they were all boring bastards anyway) and poked him back, grinning as he did so. _You have_ _1_ _new poke. _Oh, God! He was online! Arthur yelped and blushed, waiting a minute before poking him back once more. Two minutes later and there was another message. _You have 1 new_ _poke_. By now, Arthur was grinning like a damn fool and giggled childishly as he went to make his morning cup of tea. Arthur enjoyed flirting.

Alfred and Arthur spoke everyday after their poking incident. The first day and a half were spent poking each other in turn, grins plastered on both men's faces each time. Part way through their poking match, Alfred had popped up on the site's instant messenger. _'Hey, cutie.'_ Arthur felt his heart stop. The words made his heart race and his stomach twist at the same time, and he didn't know what to do. His fingers hovered over the keys of his old laptop and it took him a few minutes to reply, but when he did, he felt himself smiling once again.

"How are you, Arthur?" Francis asked, five months after they set up his online profile. They were sat in the quaint coffee shop on the corner by the apartment block they both lived in, nursing caramel lattes in the corner booth.

"Fine. Last night's shift almost killed me." he almost laughed in response, cringing as he thought about the amount of sick and blood he had had to clean up. "...I spoke to Alfred when I got home." Francis nodded slowly at his reply and mulled it over, sipping his hot drink quietly.

"Ah, did you? This seems to be a regular occurrence, hm?" he finally said back, tilting his head slightly to the right. He buried his nose in the scarf wrapped tightly up to his chin, cold in the unheated coffee shop. It was almost as bad as being outside.

Arthur nodded and smiled shyly, "Maybe. I-It's got nothing to do with you anyway, Frog..." he said, though he smirked as he glanced up and drank his coffee. "He wants to talk on the phone."

"And what did you say?"

"Yes."

* * *

**AN/: Hey, guys! So I decided I'd take a day off lazing around on my butt to do something productive, and here came this new fic idea. It probably won't be a dreadfully long one, maybe two or three chapters? Just something quick to take my mind off exam stress. Please let me know what you guys think so far and I'd like to hear any thoughts on it so far! Thank you!**

**\- BritishTraveller.**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Call**

Francis watched Arthur for the rest of the week. Being above him meant he had to pass on his way down to the lobby, and they often saw each other in the mornings while collecting post when they weren't on the phone to each other or at work. The French man started to worry about his friend once he mentioned the call. This Alfred guy seemed too good to be true - who looked so perfect, had a perfect job and was so lovely, and yet was single? _Alfred _seemed a little fake to Francis, and he worried about Arthur dearly. He just hoped that they never wanted to meet and it backfired; he would be to blame for setting him up on that damn site anyway. So exactly eight days after they spoke in the cafe, Francis turned up at Arthur's door with a Chinese takeaway and a bottle of wine. "You gonna let me in?"

They spent the night laughing and joking, only having a glass of wine each, even if it was a Saturday night. Francis chose the night because he knew Arthur generally had Fridays off and spoke to Alfred mostly all day Saturday if he wasn't out. He wanted to know more about this American man that had suddenly stole his friend.

"Oh, Francis, he's so lovely, you know." Arthur smiled, twirling some Chow Mein around his fork, "He's a darling; he messages me every morning with a '_Hello, sugar.' _and every night with a '_Goodnight, sweetcheeks.'_ "I just get so excited!" he squealed and giggled, grinning as he ate his food. Francis had never seen Arthur so happy, and just like Alfred's, Arthur's smile was contagious.

"He sounds charming." He replied back, sipping the last of his wine before pouring another one, despite his earlier claims. "How much do you actually know about this guy, then? Has he sent you any pictures?" He probed, trying not to sound too much like a concerned mother. "You haven't spoken to him on the phone yet, have you?" It was like 20 questions with Francis, and Arthur raised an eyebrow as he munched on some noodles and beansprouts. "Oh, Arthur! You haven't sent him nudes have you?!"

Arthur choked on his Chinese. "You think I'd send some random guy _nudes_?!"

"You were just saying how wonderful he was, Arthur!"

"Shut up! God, you're acting like I'm still a teenager! Alfred is lovely. He's just turned 28 and is a doctor in Dallas. He _has_ sent me pictures, thank you very much. All very handsome ones at that. Alfred lives on his own and has been thinking of buying a kitten for some time, apparently. He loves to travel, Francis; just like I do! He's forever doing road-trips and loves movies: action are his favourites! He doesn't read as much as I do but he loves Harry Potter and all that, and I love the way he types and, and-" Arthur had gotten so excited he had dropped his fork onto his plate with a clatter, yelping at the noise. "...Sorry. Gosh, he's just... He's so lovely, Fran."

* * *

As soon as Francis arose the next morning, he got his daily coffee and he woke his computer up, logging into **WorldMatch **to search for this _Alfred Franklin Jones_. Aha! He found him. Francis hummed as he looked through the information again, and his eyes went wide as he re-read Alfred's current relationship status. _In a relationship._

"Arthur! Arthur, open this door right now!"

Francis was down at his door like a shot, banging loudly. "Arthur!" Said Brit opened the door with a growl, tiredness evident on his face.

"What?" He spat, "Do you realise it is six in the morning? On a _Sunday_?"

"Alfred's in a relationship."

Arthur frowned and his mouth went dry, looking at the other curiously. "What do you mean..?" He opened the door a little wider to let the man in, still wary as Francis stormed to the Brit's open laptop on the coffee table. He plopped down on the sofa and loaded up the profile, pointing to it furiously as Arthur stood next to him.

"Look! There, Alfred Franklin Jones. Status, in a relationship. Arthur, I don't know what's going on, but this doesn't look good."

He could see the other's expression fade into something unreadable, and the Brit slunk down onto the couch beside him, leaning forward and tilting his laptop to read it better. Fuck; he was right. "N-no, but... we talk every night! We do, Francis! He said he liked me! We were going to talk for the first time... I was going to hear his voice-" The Frenchman immediately regretted opening his stupid French mouth and stayed quiet, watching him out of concerned cerulean eyes. It shocked him when Arthur pulled the laptop onto his lap and began to type quickly and furiously, fingers flying over the keys so quick he thought they would start sparking. He was typing him a message; confronting him. "He's read it." He said softly, and Francis could hear the strain in his voice and the lump in his throat.

'_What do you mean, baby?' _Alfred typed. _'That relationship is with you... If you'll have me.'_

Francis felt his poker face return and looked to Arthur, who was welling up like the bloody soft puppy he was. "Oh, what a darling!" He exclaimed, "Look, Fran!" The excitement began to turn into anxiousness once Arthur's phone vibrated, and he sat frozen. _**Alfred Calling**_ his screen read, Arthur suddenly breaking out into a grin as he held the vibrating object in his soft hands; "It's him, Fran! It's Alfred! Oh, God-!"

He swiftly swiped the screen and his breath hitched when it connected him to someone else, silence on the other end until he heard breathing. "H-Hey, babydoll. It- It's nice ta' finally speak to ya, huh?" The southern drawl was evident as it flooded through the speakers, making Arthur's knees go weak.

"...Hi, Al." He managed to squeak out, blushing as he looked at Francis with big eyes. The Frenchman had a soft smile on his face and could hear everything, the sound on the phone loud enough. "Y-yeah, it's nice to hear your voice-"

"Oh, Gawd. You sound perfect, sugar." Alfred said back, grin evident even through the speaker, "I never thought ya'd sound so... British, ya'no? I love it!" He laughed. A deep, rumbling noise that travelled so wonderfully though the speakers that Arthur wanted to moan at the sound of it.

Of course, Francis didn't leave. Not just yet. He was almost like Arthur's chaperon, insisting he was there after he 'got him into this'. Really he was just being nosy. "Your laugh... It- It's wonderful."

"Hah! Wonderful, I ain't never heard that one before!" Alfred answered, "I usually get 'Oh Gawd Alfie, ya' laughin' too loud!'" He laughed at that too, and his bubbly attitude sent goosebumps up Arthur's arms. "Hey now, why ya' so quiet, darlin'? I've looked forward to talkin' to ya'..." He knew he was making Arthur blush and loved it, sat in his office chair in his mostly empty house as he heard Arthur stumble so sweetly over his words. "Okay, darlin'. I don't wanna cut it short but I gotta do an op tomorrow so I gotta be on the ball! At least I can just replay your voice over in my head, huh? Okay, sweetcheeks. Yeah; talk to you soon, baby. Alright. G'night!"

Arthur ended the call with a smile, putting his phone down as he turned and hugged Francis instinctively. "Did you hear him, Fran?! Oh wow, he sounded so gorgeous-" he gasped, "W-we're dating now! Francis! I have a boyfriend!"

Francis wasn't so sure. Everything seemed so dreadfully suspicious, and the guy didn't sound 28. More like 18 with the way he spoke and 48 the way he used 'sugar' and 'sweetcheeks'. No, there was definitely something off about this Alfred, and Francis decided he would just have to probe a little more.

* * *

**AN:/ Hey! So here's chapter two up. I wrote this at one in the morning cause I was too giddy to stop! Please leave a review to tell me what you think; any ideas on what Francis will do? Is Alfred as legit as he makes out to be? **

**I don't know either. I'll get started on chapter three later so we can all find out. ;)**

**As always, thanks for reading and stay safe!**

**-BritishTraveller.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Talks**

* * *

_You have 1 new message._

_Alfred Fredrick Jones. June 5th 2014. 11:02 a.m. Dallas, Texas. USA._

**_Hey, sweetheart! Hope you're all well and good. I'm missin ya real bad, doll. I got a big op goin on later today; hip replacement. Probably gonna be about 2 hours - she's really old, bless her heart. How's your work? Bet you look fuckin smokin in your nurses scrubs. ;) Can't wait to talk. Will message you later, baby. Miss you. AJ x_**

* * *

_You have 2 new messages._

_Alfred Fredrick Jones. June 5th 2014. 2:34 p.m. Dallas, Texas. USA._

**_Babydoll? Huh. Guess you never read my last message. Just wanted you to know the surgery went well. Guess you're real busy so I'll message you later. Love you. AJ x_**

* * *

_You have 3 new messages._

_Alfred Fredrick Jones. June 6th 2014. 05:00 a.m. Dallas, Texas. USA._

**_Uh, hey, Artie. Where are ya? I've missed you so much :( You never came on last night; everything okay? Has something happened? Oh, God. Please be okay! I love you. I'll try callin you when I've finished my shift. AJ x_**

* * *

_You have 4 new messages._

_Alfred Fredrick Jones. June 6th 2014. 05:05 a.m. Dallas, Texas. USA._

**_Please reply._**

* * *

Alfred rang Arthur's phone for what seemed like the 100th time that day, anxiously waiting for someone, anyone, to pick up. Eventually, after the 19th call, he got through. "Uh, hello?" A rough sounding voice came through the speaker, and Alfred raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

"Um, Art? Is that you, doll?" He asked slowly and gently, hiding in the broom cupboard at work. The janitor gave him a weird look when he entered the closet and shut the door behind him, but shrugged it off and started work on fixing that damn broken bulb in the men's staff toilets.

"_Alfred?_" came the voice again, and it sounded surprised this time. "Al, what the hell are you doing? This must be costing you a fortune! Why're you ringing so early?" He heard a yawn and was even more confused.

"...Arthur, it's 2 p.m your time. Shouldn't you be at work?"

"_Shit." _Alfred listened as Arthur threw his mobile phone on the bed, cursing like a sailor as he looked for his clothes and a brush. "_Fuck fuck fuck!_" Alfred chuckled down the phone and sighed, running a sweaty palm over his face in relief. At least the Brit was okay, even if he was late for work. He heard him scramble back for the phone and smiled. "Shit... Sorry, Al but I gotta go. My power's down so my alarm never went off- I have to go to work; call you back later, yeah? Bye!"

And with that, he put down the phone. Leaving Alfred with an 'I love you' on his lips and a frown on his face. So that's why he never replied... Fuck, he genuinely thought he'd screwed up somehow and told Arthur the truth. Oh, God. Why didn't he just tell him in the first place? Would it really matter anyway? Maybe not, but it still made Alfred's heart ache and he didn't know when or where he could tell the other without him ending things. Cursing, the American slid his phone into his coat pocket and signed out in the staff room, going home to get in bed after a long day.

At the same time Alfred had flopped onto his bed, Arthur was bursting through the hospital doors, running towards the staffroom to get his stuff in the locker and start his shift. He dressed quickly and balled his regular clothes into his locker, switching into his scrubs and washing his hands after he signed in, handwriting messy due to his tiredness. He was caught by his supervisor just as he grabbed a quick coffee and groaned - he had to stay later tonight to make up for the few hours he missed. He didn't mind really; it gave him time to reflect on this relationship with Alfred and where it was going, how it'd work with them being so far away and how to handle the time differences. Texas was around 6 hours behind the UK, so it was hard to catch each other sometimes. Mulling over his thoughts over the day, Arthur found himself smiling every time he pictured that grinning, cheeky face. Ah, yeah. Arthur was in love.

Alfred felt sick. Sick, sick, sick. He had been in bed everyday for three days, and Arthur kept him company when he wasn't working or with this Francis guy. His muscles ached to fuck and he had a headache. He didn't want to get up; he didn't want to move. He felt like shit and like he was about to vomit any minute. He put it down to that kid he treated the other day quickly while the other doctors were busy. "Fuckin' kid had chicken pox, didn't he?" Alfred groaned as he buried himself deeper into the duvet, trying not to scratch his skin. Alfred had never had chicken pox as a child, and to get it at 24 was... well, it made him feel like crap. All he wanted to do was shut that fucking radio off in the corner of his bedroom blasting out John Legend or someone or other, singing about devotion and love and it just made Alfred angry. "Just shut up!" He growled, throwing his pillow at the bloody thing only for it to turn up. "Oh, fuck me." He sighed, getting his iPhone out and lazily scrolling through apps after he cancelled the rest of the week's shifts at the hospital. Attention back on his phone, Alfred had a gander at Facebook and Twitter before realising nothing was going on in the community that he was remotely bothered about. Someone was going to New York on holiday. Someone else just got a bonus at work. Someone else's pet goldfish just died. His cousin just lost her job. Oh, and his old college buddies were having a meet up. Rolling his tired eyes, the man decided to check the CNN app, which was just as dreary. Talking about Obama and some other shit he didn't give a hoot in hell about right now. Huffing, he exited and did another look through his apps, noticing something. A red box with a number 2 in had appeared next to the world icon for the popular **WorldMatch** app, signalling he had 2 new notifications on it. Curiously, he pressed it with his thumb, grinning as he saw one new message and a poke, both from Arthur.

_You have 1 new message._

_Arthur Kirkland. June 6th 2014. 5:36 p.m. Manchester, United Kingdom. _

**_Hello, Alfred. How you handling the chickenpox, eh? I hope you haven't been in work spreading your germs! You know how fast they travel, doctor. ;)  
...Anway, I'm on a quick break. I have to work for a few more hours 'cause we're short on staff so I've had to be transferred to the maternity ward. Just having a quick tea in the cafeteria before I'm back on. Miss you. Hope you are okay. Stay snuggled up, okay love? Speak soon. x_**

_ATTACHMENT._

Alfred smiled through the message and climbed out of bed, making himself a hot drink as he read, hip resting against the counter. Opening the attachment, the older man beamed brightly and scratched his arm as he looked at Arthur's blushing face as he held a polystyrene cup of tea. Alfred was right, he concluded. Arthur did look pretty hot in his scrubs.

In response, Alfred took a selfie of himself looking very tired with scabs over his face and chest, clad only in his boxers. The spots trailed in clusters down his torso and he had patches over his whole body, some even near his crotch! Ugh. They dotted his forehead and cheeks, although most of the visible spots were on his chest and arms. The kitchen behind him was beautiful, but he stood out due to his muscular body covered in red dots and pink marks where he'd been scratching. Not even three minutes later and his cell was ringing; Arthur. He found himself smiling once again and realised that, despite his chicken pox, he hadn't been this happy in a long time. As he answered the phone to a worried Englishman, the Dallas native realised something: He was in love. He was in love, and he had never felt so good.


	4. Chapter 4

**Vacations, Vacations**

"Hey, Artie. Guess what? I'm going on vacation!" Alfred announced one day over the phone, his smile evident even through the speaker. He sounded excited, and Arthur was happy for him.

"Oh, that's great, Alfred. Where are you going this time? Aruba? Jamaica?" The other enquired, laughing.

"Ooh I wanna take ya', Bermuda, Bahama come on pretty mama..." Alfred laughed back, a deep chuckle that rumbled in his chest. "Nah, I _am_ going to the Florida Keys though! Might have ta have a trip down to Kokomo afterall." The Texan began to sing the rest of their song, stopping half way though. "Hey, why don't you come? It'll be so fun! I just managed to get some time off work for two weeks-"

Arthur stopped him. "Go with you? To Florida?" He asked like the other had gone mad, "Alfred, I've never been to America in my whole life! I.. I can't just go and meet a stranger. No offence, but you know how weird it will sound at immigration when they ask who I'm meeting and I reply with, 'Oh, some guy I met on the internet.'"

"Yah, I know." Alfred replied sadly, scratching the back of his neck. "Jus' would'a been nice, yano?" Getting up from his dinner table, he put his bowl of cereal in the sink, back resting against the kitchen counter as he listened to Arthur's voice. God, he was such a sucker for his accent. Even if he were listening to him yell he would probably still swoon. But he was rambling now... "Mmhm. Yeah. Yup. Yesss. Okay, okay." He yawned and rolled his eyes, smirking and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. He laughed again, enjoying winding Arthur up as the other blushed and got frustrated. Lying in bed still, Arthur rolled onto his side and began to smile, scolding him though he didn't mean it.

"You're such an arsehole." He said, laughing at the other's mock gasp. "Right, I've gotta go. I need a shower and then I'm on a late shift so I'll talk to you later."

Alfred grinned cheekily. "Send me pics?"

"Goodbye, Alfred."

"Aww.."

* * *

Arriving at work at 2 pm, Arthur trudged through to the unit he worked in, washing his hands first thing before he entered and again after. "Afternoon." He greeted the other nurses, taking a look around the ICU. His patient was still there, anyway. Sending a quick thank you up to whatever being had kept her in a stable condition, he made his way over to the woman, her husband perched in a chair beside her bed. Every time Arthur came to check on her he was there, never leaving her side except for a quick cigarette. And even then he would kiss her head and tell her he would only be a few minutes, even though she was in a coma. Though they weren't sure if she could hear them, they still acted as though she could, and Arthur smiled at the gent who was holding her had. "Hi, Mr Lewis. Just coming to check up on Amanda; I see her heart rate and blood pressure are steady." He took a look at the machines and then grabbed the small hand held light, shining it in her eyes and sighing when he gained no response. "I'm just going to turn you over, sweetheart." He told the young woman, gently shifting her to her side. Her husband looked so lost, eyes vacant and yet full of love for the brunette on the bed. Arthur hated that look. It was hard for anyone in the department when a new patient came in, and just as hard for the patient's family, but when it wasn't getting any better it made the nurses feel like they weren't quite doing their job up to scratch.

Mr Lewis stayed with his wife for the rest of the afternoon, a few stitches on the side of his head and scratches over his body. They'd been in a horrible accident, and his wife suffered the blunt of it. She'd been unconscious since she came in a week ago. "Go grab a coffee, Mr Lewis. I promise I'll look after Amanda until you get back." Fuck; there. He'd done it - broken one of the nurse rules: never make any promises. What if something happened to her-? "Honestly, Sir. You must be knackered. Your wife is in good hands here."

Amanda passed away at 5:41 pm under Arthur's watch, just half an hour after her husband left to nip home. "You promised." Was the first thing her husband said to the blond nurse after driving straight back, "If I'd have stayed a little longer, I- I could have-!"

There was nothing anyone could have done, and Arthur knew that. But he still couldn't help but feel guilt for letting such a young girl pass. She wasn't able to function, not with the damage done to her head from the accident. Arthur shed a few tears when he entered the staff room, knowing he shouldn't get so attached and feel so guilty. The first thing he did was call Alfred, breathing shaky until he answered. "..I need a bloody holiday." He said with a bitter laugh.

* * *

After booking the next few days off work, Arthur felt instantly better. He relaxed in his bathtub, only getting out an hour later and smelling of grapefruit. He spoke with Alfred while lying in bed, being put on speaker while the American packed his bags for his trip to the sunny Florida Keys. He even met with Francis and the man's friends, going out for a drink at the local pub where he witnessed one man get punched square on the nose for offering to show a woman a good night. They all found it hilarious, the man returning in a shoddy state. "So, how's the love life going?" Francis asked with a turn of the head, ignoring the rest of the group at the table. "It's been 10 months since you started talking. Please tell me you've sent at least one nude."

"H-hey! You were against sending naked pictures last time!"

"Ah, no. I was against _you_ sending naked pictures last time. I enjoy it."

"I bloody know you do. If I get one more Snapchat of your cock and balls I'll be removing them myself." He retorted, taking a gulp of his beer.

"That was _one time_!"

Arthur looked at him. "Make that seven."

"Your name is next to hers! I bet you liked them though..." Francis replied with a wink, downing the rest of his pint and setting the glass down as Arthur gagged.

"You can get your head out of your arse if you think I find your cock attractive. Come on, Fran; you can at least angle it so it looks bigger! And you need to work out. Imagine how many more guys and girls you could get with a six pack. You've got some serious sagging of your balls too, mate." Arthur laughed until his throat hurt; he loved to tease him, just as Alfred did to him. It was funny seeing Francis get so red in the face, instinctively going to check he didn't have loose balls. "Jeez, Francis! At least have a little bit of dignity and check it out in the bathroom. Christ..." The look on his face was priceless as he scurried off to check himself out in the bathrooms.

No more than five minutes later had Arthur received a new Snapchat from the Frenchman, this one taken from the front and a little down so you could see his toned stomach. How the bleedin' hell had he gotten an erection that quick?! It pressed against his stomach like a proud soldier and made Arthur gag, screen-capturing it as he laughed and showed the others at the table. Shame; he'd set it for the full 10 seconds too! The clearly agitated Frenchman came over not moments later, jaw set firmly as he plopped back down on his stool. "You'd better not show anyone that, Rosbif."

Except he had, and the rest of the table were already prepared. "Ey' up, Fran; how's Jr doin'? Didn't know he worked as a royal guard now!" One of their friends joked.

"Ah yeah, lookin' after them crown jewels, weren't he?"

"Aye! You got a nice 'un, mate. Just keep it away from those dingy toilets, yeah?" The others piped up, all laughing as Francis hit his head on the wooden table, whining with a ruby red face. Arthur didn't think he'd had this much fun in ages.

* * *

**AN/: Hey guys! I'm so sorry I haven't updated in ages but I've been on holiday and exams and etc, plus family things, but I swear I'm looking to update this and OLS more! (It's been almost a year since I last updated OLS!) **

**I also need your advice - I'm thinking of making this M Rated; how many of you would continue to read if I did and how many wouldn't? Just wondering!**

**By the way, the song Arthur and Alfred were singing was a great song called Kokomo by the Beach Boys.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-BritishTraveller**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sexts and Kisses**

Arthur Kirkland never enjoyed phone sex. It was similar to his hate of online dating, except he hated phone sex worse. It was the sheer and utter embarrassment that came from telling your partner how you were feeling right at that moment, a permanent blush on his cheeks as he told the other person how his groin ached and how his chest was heaving. It was just so awkward.

So when Alfred rang him one day, breathing heavy and the slapping of skin resounding through the speaker, Arthur couldn't help but squeak and put the phone immediately down.

Needless to say , not a minute later and his phone was ringing again, the familiar tone ringing and ringing until Arthur finally gained the courage to pick up, answering with a "H-Hello?"

He was shitting himself. What would he say? Hey, why were you wanking off on the phone? No, that wouldn't do. That was way too blunt.

"A-Artie, shit, I'm sorry-! I- I thought ya' wanted to have phone sex?" Came Alfred's voice, wavering from nervousness as he waited for Arthur to reply.

"I- We never disclosed a date, Alfred! You- you can't just go ringing people off while wanking off! You've got to at least sound like you aren't and then work to it. Bloody hell, you have the charms but not the brains, do you?"

"No need to be an ass. Ha, ass. I'd so fuck yours right now…" Alfred moaned, whining as he tried not to let Arthur know he was touching himself. Those damn speakers picked up everything!

"…You're still doing it, aren't you?"

"…Maybe."

"Ugh!" Arthur huffed and lay on the sofa, the droning of BBC News 24 making his head feel numb. He turned the volume down just as the weather girl came on, dressed in some God awful dress that didn't flatter her one bit. "Right, fine. Hm, c'mon then. We'll start from the beginning, I, uh, guess." He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, sighing as he heard Alfred too shift.

The Brit didn't really know what to do. Should he literally just tell him anything or was he supposed to act all sexy and accent each word with a husky voice like in the movies? Ugh, he just didn't know. But Alfred certainly did. "Okay. Come on, sugar. It's okay… Okay, mm, what are you wearing?"

Really? "Um, my- my white shirt and boxers.." He replied, fidgeting already as he looked down at his pale thighs and lightly haired calves.

"Okay. So, if I were there, d'ya know what I'd do? I'd lean over you and kiss you gently and then all at once, my hands running over your chest and slowly unbuttonin' your shirt, placin' gentle kisses down your neck. Would ya like that? An' then I'd go and gently rub over your nipples, kissing down your chest and slowly sucking them..." God, his words sent shivers down his back. But he refused to let himself get so easily flustered, just humming down the phone to him. "Come on, take off your shirt. I want ya to touch ya like I want to." And there were the goosebumps; they made his arms prickly and tense, and the Mancunian hadn't realised he had stopped breathing until he exhaled. He gave an okay in response and held the phone between his neck and jaw, resting it there while he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, just like Alfred had described.

"O-Okay. Now what?"

"Now, I want ya to run your hands down your chest. Not too fast, now. Just run the tips of your fingers over your nipples and tease 'em a bit, yano… An' then close your eyes. Jus' think'a me while I talk to you, yeah? Okay. So I'm teasing your nipples… And then I go to your stomach, placing little kisses down it and down your navel until I reach your pants. I'd unbuckle it swiftly, contemplating whether to tie your hands together with it but deciding not to, throwing it into a far corner of the room." Alfred took a breather then, his own palm slowly stroking his member as he spoke, eyes firmly shut with images of himself touching Arthur for the first time. God, he'd be beautiful. He imagined him smelling of grapefruit and limes, or maybe even lemons. "…With the quickest of fingers I'd pull down your boxers, your hands fiddling with my own as you tried to pull them down and get a glimpse of my cock. Oh, I'd make you into such a little whore, Arthur. I'd have you begging for me within minutes."

"H-hey now, don't get too full of yourself-"

"Are you touching yourself? God, ya don't half make this hard, Artie. C'mon, do it." Groaning, the American took a deep breath and rubbed his thumb over the head, fingernail just dipping into the slit as he gasped and heard Arthur's little whines and moans from his own hand, just lightly touching himself. "Oh, man… You'd be so gorgeous, withering there under my palm as I stroked you and myself, rubbing our cocks together in sync. Wouldn't you like that, Artie? Being so dirty and naughty, hot kisses passed between us as I pushed my tongue in your mouth and ran it over your gums. Ohh, fuck- mmh, I can't wait to fuck you, Arthur Kirkland. So fuckin' fast and rough and so Texan; oh, baby."

He couldn't stop now, endless little dirty words escaping him. It was too easy to slip into such an act, his voice seeming huskier and accent thicker with each word that he spoke. It was like being fluent in sex talk, so easy to roll of the tongue with the images clouding Alfred's vision. Arthur wasn't saying much yet, but he could hear him gulp like he wanted to, as though he wanted to join in and tell his overseas lover exactly what he would do to him in such a situation. "Oh, fuck. Yeah, mmh-" His hand slid so wonderfully over his erect cock that he couldn't help but keen and groan with each movement up and down, Arthur gasping with his breath quickening. Alfred managed just a few more words about how he'd take him when he came over the edge, climaxing with a shortness of breath and a whisper of Arthur's sweet name, cum pooling over his large fingers. "Fuckin' Christ, man. Oh, wow. D-Did you come? That was amazing…" He chuckled deeply, grabbing a tissue from the other couch cushion and wiping his hand, just managing to catch his breath as Arthur too laughed down the speaker, having come himself.

Correction, Arthur Kirkland never enjoyed phone sex.

…Unless it was with Alfred Jones.

* * *

**AN/: Hi guys, just wanted to say thank you for reading and that I'm sorry for the blatant porn and no warning, just in case you didn't want to read it. Also, if you haven't noticed the rating has been upgraded to M from T, just for the fact that this chapter was in it and that there may be some more a little further on. Thank you! Any reviews and opinions would be greatly appreciated. **

**\- BritishTraveller.**


	6. Chapter 6

**London Calling**

"Hey, baby! Sorry we ain't spoken in a few days since- ah, you know!" Alfred chuckled down the phone. "The signal is pretty bad here, but I managed to find a spot that had a bit. How you doin', sweet cheeks?"

Arthur smiled as he sat slouched on his couch, legs outstretched and resting on his coffee table. He was cuddled up in his pyjamas, lounge pants tucked into his slipper socks like some middle aged woman with a baggy jumper over his toned torso. "Mm. I missed hearing your yank voice." He shifted and yawned, glancing out of his front room window to catch the light from the nearby lamppost. Was it really that dark already? "I'm okay. You? How's Florida?"

Alfred hummed as he listened to his boyfriend's sweet accent, munching on his strawberry and whipped cream topped iHop pancakes. "Yeah it's good! Everythin's good. I'm meeting my brother once I get to Cocoa and picking him up so hopefully it'll be a good day. Gonna have a drive down to NASA a bit later, have a wander around the site and go on that ride! I'm so excited, Art! Wish you were here though. I'd love taking you around Florida and Disney and Universal! Ooh! And Olive Garden. I bet you'd love it there, baby. Sorry, I'm rambling- I'll bring ya somethin' nice back and post it to you, babe." He placed another forkful of pancake into his mouth and chewed, humming as the other responded. "Yeah! No, no. It's fine! I'll post you a little package with some stuff in, doll. Ooh! You gotta send me one back, though! With some of that tea you like so much so I can pretend to like it too." Another deep rumble of his chest accompanied Alfred's chuckle, sighing happily and chatting for a little longer until he got into his car. "Hey, babe? I'm gonna have to go now. My bill will be sky high if I stay on any longer! Yeah, you too. I will have a safe trip, don't you worry. Love you more. Yeah, I'll take loads of pictures. Mm. Okay; talk to you later darlin'! Enjoy the rest of your evening. Bye! Bye."

Arthur smiled a little sadly and put down the phone, setting it down beside him and stretching. Cracking his neck, the blond Brit padded into his small kitchen and flicked on the kettle, grabbing his favourite mug and dropping a tea bag into it. He barely even heard the door due to the racket he was making trying to find a teaspoon. "Hello? Arthur?"

"Oh! Oh Jesus, Francis! I didn't hear you come in."

The other looked at him with a sneaky grin and popped himself down on Arthur's couch, himself in his pyjamas too. "Er, you can think twice about putting your manky slippers on my coffee table! Shift!" Arthur crossed the room to swat his feet away, smirking lightly. "Tea or beer? Forget I asked. Just put something good on, would you?" Handing him the remote, Arthur walked back into the dainty kitchen and poured hot water over his tea, stirring it and straining the bag before grabbing a beer from the fridge for Francis. "Here." plopping himself down beside his friend, Arthur held his mug between his hands to warm them up, Francis leaning into him while he flicked through the shitty British channels.

"Cheers." The French man tapped his can against Arthur's mug and finally settled on some comedy show, the two chuckling and joking about one another as they watched comedian after comedian appear on Arthur's flat screen. "So you and Alfred, mm? How's that going?"

"I knew you were going to mention him. That why you're here?" Arthur started to smile and nudge his unexpected visitor, sipping his perfect mug of tea and sighing. "Mmhm. We're good, thank you very much. Nosy bugger." He grinned, passing him a box of chocolates. "Are those the pyjamas I got you last Christmas?"

"Stop trying to change the subject! C'mon, tell your old friend Francis-"

"Nothing to tell."

Francis rolled his eyes, blond mop of hair covering Arthur's shoulder as he slouched. "Yeah, yeah. Okay. You sent the nudes I bet!" Francis started to laugh loudly when Arthur began to splutter, threatening to pour his tea over him if he didn't stop his irritating teasing.

"Why I never!" Arthur exclaimed, giggling his head off. "No nudes where sent, okay? But we did ah- we did have phone sex." He managed to mumble, "The lad's a bloody professional! I- just wow. Francis, hah, believe me; it was good."

"I believe you. I just think it's weird you two can have phone sex and you haven't seen each other naked yet."

"We're getting to it."

"Hmm. He still in Florida?"

"Yup."

"You want me to put Friends on?"

"Yup. Pass the chocolates, will you?"

* * *

The two sat comfortably for a while, Arthur handing Francis the chocolates he didn't like so much and Francis doing the same. It was all perfect until Arthur's mobile dinged twice, the Brit whining and pretending that he couldn't reach just so Francis would pass it to him. It dinged again in his nimble hands, the blond man sighing and unlocking it. "Alfred," He mumbled, "sending selfies from NASA."

Francis perked up a bit, glancing to his friend and raising his head, "Oh yeah? Let's have a look." He said, holding out his hand and swallowing when Arthur passed it to him, frowning at his sudden change in mood. "What's wrong, Arthur?"

"Nout. Just leave it, would you?" He replied with his arms folded, a slight grump to his tone as he practically demanded the phone back. "Give it 'ere, would you?! Bleedin' 'ell, it's like you're ogling him or something." He huffed.

"Arthur..." Francis warned, giving him a look. Alfred looked incredibly happy in the pictures; he was smiling next to his bearded friend, both in tight shirts and shorts while walking around the site. Alfred was even posing with a hotdog in one picture. The other sighed and looked down sadly, locking his phone and turning awkwardly to him.

"It's just... I-" he bit his lip, "I'm just so jealous. He's older than me, I know, but he's just achieved so much more than me, Fran! He's down in Florida now sunning his bloody self while I'm here in the blasted rain, snuggled up on the sofa with you watching Friends repeats on my day off! And we've finished the bloody chocolates! Whatever next?!"

Francis looked in disbelief. Man, Arthur was touchy. "...It's fine, my friend. I have more in my apartment; I can go and get some. Now shush, and tell me everything that's wrong."

Francis regretted the sentence as soon as it tumbled from his damn French lips. The one thing Arthur enjoyed most was complaining... And complain he did. The French man was close to slapping him the way he was going: he had seemed perfectly fine before. Splendid, even. And now here he was, a whinging, whining mess. "...and all I want is a damn holiday, I swear to God! It's all I need! Why can't I have a jolly good time in Florida instead?"

"I think the problem here isn't that you're jealous of Alfred: I think you're just missing him."

"Ohh no. No, no, no." The other protested.

"Arthur, listen to me you fool!" Francis scolded, tutting and shifting his weight. "You just want to be there with him. If you need a holiday so badly then just go. It doesn't have to be Florida, Arthur."

"Oh, but it does!" He complained dramatically, Francis bewildered at the sudden twist of attitude and atmosphere in the room. "I need to see him, Fran. I just want to go and relax and enjoy myself for once! My whole life I've spent following order, going to work every day just to be thrown up on and cursed at or punched in the face by some drunk moron just for doing my job. As much as I love it, it's just so stressful. I can't cope anymore! This is my first proper day off in ages!"

Francis nodded and hummed, smiling gently at his friend. Arthur was quite easily provoked and pretty emotional, but Francis didn't think he'd get so just from a couple of selfies.

"I'm, uh... I'm sorry for ruining things. I'm not saying I don't enjoy this; you know, us two lounging around watching telly... But there's a whole god damned world out there, Frog. And I haven't seen any of it! And before you start, a drunken week in Ibiza when we were 18 does not count. I want to travel and experience things and just go somewhere new and exciting. I want to go and meet Alfred and hug him and kiss him and share memories with him! Not sit here in my dingy little pokey flat on the phone to him whenever we can both catch one another." He sighed dejectedly, "I want to see him. Really, really bad. I do, Fran-"

"Come on then." Francis suddenly interjected.

"Come on then what?" Arthur retorted, frowning and shuffling himself so he was cross legged and face to face with his friend.

"Come on. Let's go book you a flight. Right now. You're going to America, Arthur Kirkland, and you better enjoy it."

* * *

**AN:/ Hey everyone! My most sincere apologies for not updating sooner. I feel that the story is going somewhat astray but I'm trying my hardest to keep it on track and flowing as best as I can! Hope you all had a lovely Christmas and Happy New Year to you all! Thank you for reading and sticking by the story! Any reviews left would be extremely appreciated: I love hearing new feedback and comments from readers - it really makes my day! Any ideas or prompts for future chapters or edits to the story or whatever are all greatly appreciated too. Thank you again,**

**BritishTraveller.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Panic Attacks and Primark**

Booking a ticket to Tampa, Florida was more difficult than expected. Hell, it was hard. How many passengers? What day would you like to fly? How long is your stay? Where will you be staying? Would you like an inflight meal? What is your passport number? Is your Visa up to date? Christ, Arthur didn't think he could handle another bloody question. He growled and huffled, letting out a long groan as he launched himself from the spinny-chair and onto his bed, flat face down as he exhaled into the bed sheet. "Fraaaaaan." He whined, making fake crying noises and huffs too so he would do it.

"Alright, alright. You're such a little whiner, I'm surprised Alfred likes that." He smirked and chuckled as Arthur kicked his leg like a child having a tantrum, the Frenchman taking control of the mouse and scrolling through flights. "Hmm, they're pretty pricey... Give me a minute-"

"Uuuuugh, hurry?"

"Calm down, Arthur. Jesus; just wait a moment would you?" Francis rolled his eyes at Arthur's childish attitude, just focused on finding the cheapest flight and sighing in relief when he booked one, Arthur stressing him out too much.

* * *

"Oh dear _God_, Francis. This was a bad idea. A bad, bad idea." Arthur was hyperventilating, pacing around his bedroom in his slipper socks while Francis waited for the printer to finish Arthur's ticket. "He won't answer!" He whined, a look of anguish upon his face as he ended the call and re-rang, holding his forehead with one hand before plopping down on the end of his bed. "C'mon, Alfred... Christ, hah, you'd think he'd fallen off the end of the Earth- he's usually quick to reply..."

Francis hummed, drumming his fingers on the side of the desk. "Ah, here we go! All printed." He turned in the swivel chair and faced his friend, pursing his lips and sighing. "Stop fussing, Art'ur. Think, he's on holiday himself. He might be doing anyth-" half way through his sentence Arthur's phone rang, the Brit squealing and throwing it to Francis, looking worried.

"Answer it!" He hissed, looking at the phone as though it were a snake or some other creature he was deadly terrified of. Francis glared at him and looked at the phone, Arthur swanning off like he had nothing to do with it.

After a roll of his eyes Francis answered with a sweet hello, strumming his fingers on the desk and then scratching his face, uneasy at being thrown in at the deep end. Arthur ran a hand through his hair and stood, looking to his French friend and pacing to the window, the bright streetlight illuminating the wet pavement. He sighed and rested his backside on the window ledge, shivering at the sound of rain falling harshly against the windowpane. "Ah, is this Alfred? Yes, I do apologise; this is Francis, Arthurs friend? Oui, yes. Ah, well, you see... You are still in Florida, are you not? Yes. I see- no, no! Well, ahem-" Francis glared at Arthur and pointed to beside him, the same finger coming up to point at the phone. "_Arthur_!" He hissed, ushering him over. "You are? Great news. Yes! Arthur could ring you at your hotel, then. What did you say it was called?"

After a few more awkward words from a confused Alfred, Francis bid him goodbye and hung up, glaring at Arthur with fire in his eyes. "You little shit! How could you put me on the spot... Poor Alfred. I never thought my first encounter with him would have been like that." He tutted at the Brit, huffing. "Anyway, he's staying at a hotel on the beach in a place called Clearwater. He gave me the number but I'll book you a room, shall I? Hey, aren't you excited..?"

Francis leaned in close and took one of Arthur's hands, seeing him look quite scared. "Excited?" Arthur repeated, breathing shaky. "I'm down right terrified. I don't think I can do this, Fran. I- I mean, to all the way to Tampa airport on my own? What about work? A-and, what if he's there with his friend and something goes wrong? What if he doesn't like me?"

The other rolled his eyes. "Arthur, what could possibly go wrong? Alfred pretty much invited you in the first place, I bet he would be ecstatic! Now come on," he smiled reassuringly, "get your bags packed. You're going to meet your love of your life! ..Well, love of the past however long, look, it's not important; you're taking the moment away, now shut up!"

Arthur paced as Francis raided his wardrobe, chewing his lip and cracking his fingers uneasily as he heard the Frenchman cuss at his attire, throwing things over his shoulder left, right and centre. "What in God's name are you doing?" He said suddenly, the Frenchman looking up with a disappointed look.

"Sorting through your shit. You have no impressive clothes, Arthur. None I can picture Alfred gasping and swooning over to take you in. We will have to go shopping-" the Frenchman smirked and laughed, Arthur looking fed up and completely irate. "Come, it will be fun! Your flight is not until tomorrow night away. We can go bright and early in the morning to get you some nice things, yes?"

"...Fine. But we're going to the noodle bar and you're paying."

Francis clicked his tongue, "Fine."

* * *

As planned the two were up bright and early, out of the door before nine a.m. Francis dragged him into all the high street shops, picking out clothes and making Arthur try them on, huffing when he said no and grinning when he begrudgingly agreed and bought it. There were bags full of casual shirts and t-shirts, shorts and jeans and swimming trunks. He had some new shoes and sunglasses, a light jacket and a little box of aftershave for Alfred as a present, as encouraged by Francis. What would he need for this holiday? The more Arthur thought about it the more his stomach ached and he felt sick, his heart felt heavy like a stone and yet was racing; there was a lump in his throat as he worried himself sick, unsure what to do. How would Alfred react? That same question flooded Arthur's thoughts throughout the day; would he be happy to see him? He wouldn't be intruding, would he? Christ, he was going over it again and again, Francis scolding him and telling him to knock it off as he bit his nails worriedly in the middle of Primark. "God, I feel absolutely sick. I have bloody goosebumps just thinking about it. Fucking hell-"

Francis stopped and sighed, shaking his head. "Arthur, you're making _me_ nervous. Please, just calm down. I know you're a worrier but it'll be alright. You already called work this morning, didn't you? So that's one thing down. You have your passport, so there's another thing less to worry about. You have your ticket, a suitcase, clothes, the address of Alfred's hotel, and money. Just... Don't worry about it. I don't know what else to tell you, my friend."

He was right. Arthur tried to calm himself down, eventually having a full blown panic attack in the men's department of Primark. He was hyperventilating, eyes wide as he struggled to keep as calm as Francis suggested, the other repeating the word calm to try get him to focus. Francis cursed and showed him how to breathe normally through his nose, the Brit mirroring him and ten minutes later he was over it, heart still thumping in his chest like an almighty hammer. Francis ushered him calmly to the cashier and departed swiftly to move to a nearby cafe, tea and scones galore. Arthur was always one to work himself up; Francis wasn't unfamiliar with it.

"Feeling better now, Arthur?" Francis asked, Arthur nodding as he chewed on half a jam and thick cream filled scone. "Good. You're eating like a horse." He chuckled, Arthur gulping and exhaling. "Right, so we need to pack your case when we get in. I'll do the folding - yes, I know you know how to do folding, but you're not as space efficient - and then after the case packing we will get you ready and find your passport, make sure your boarding card is in there too. Get your wallet - yes, Arthur, we already got your money. My, you've not gotten dementia in the past twelve hours, have you? Sorry. That was a bad joke-" He smiled softly. "I'll drive you to the airport three hours before you fly. No, I haven't forgotten about the noodle bar, you elephant. No, you're not an elephant. No, I'm not calling you fat! God, Arthur! Just drink your tea and we will get going-"

* * *

**AN:/ Hi! I'm so sorry for the long delay with this chapter; I've been working on it since the last update but long story short I lost it and had to rewrite it, so if there are any mistakes or anything, I do apologise! This chapter was intended to be longer but I've decided to split it into two parts, so Arthur will be flying to Florida in the next one and drama will ensue...**  
**I hope you enjoyed this chapter; it was mainly waffle of Arthur's insecurities of meeting Alfred and Francis taking control of his love life, but if you enjoyed it nevertheless please drop me a review!**

**I also wanted to just say a quick thank you for the overwhelming support from you readers; private messages, favourites, follows, subscribers, reviewers, kudos-ers and all that jazz, thank you!**

**Until next time,**

**BritishTraveller**


	8. Chapter 8

**_Surprises_**

Arthur cursed and bounced his leg up and down, itching to be leaving and anxious to be arriving. His fingers drummed on the arm rest and he glanced out the window, watching the rain turn the runway to a darker grey and drench the air traffic controllers. It was dark out, granted for the time he was flying, but it made him more anxious as he saw lightning flash and the rumble of thunder follow it. Great; a storm. People were still boarding the plane, the cabins noisy and busy, people littering it everywhere. No one was sat next to him yet, but he silently prayed to which ever God existed that a screaming child was not placed anywhere in the vicinity. He hated that.

He shrugged his coat off and let it sit behind him, sighing and texting Francis quickly. _On plane. Its busy.. No one sat next to me yet. Thank you for dropping me off and sorting everything out, you French fuck._ He laughed to himself as he sent it, a text coming from Alfred at the same time and his eyes growing wide.

_Alfred -_

_Hey baby. I've missed you! You haven't been speakin much babe, you up for a call? xx_

Ohhhh shit. Nope, nein, nyet, non, no. No siree! No thank you. God, he shook his head and replied with a simple, 'C_an't right now, love. Speak to you soon. x'_ He hoped Alfred wouldn't ask or pester him: he had to turn his phone off soon, and it might ruin the surprise. He suddenly felt quite calm about it all - Alfred wouldn't be annoyed to see him; he'd be happy! Arthur was surprising him; Alfred had wanted to meet him for ages! And to see him in Florida, too; that'd be lovely. He'd finally get to smooch that gorgeous face of his and be intimate with him, hold his hand and do all the mushy shit they'd talked about doing since they started their online relationship. It'd be a nice surprise, and he should stop worrying. Yes, he was feeling good about it.

"I am sorry, Sir, but you will have to turn that off before take off."

The voice made Arthur jump and he looked up to see a smiling brunette member of the Cabin Crew, gesturing to his mobile phone. He nodded, phone vibrating twice as he got two texts.

_Alfred -_

_:( _

Great, now Arthur felt bad.

_Francis -_

_No problem Arthur. Text me when you land. Have a safe flight._

Arthur sighed and turned his phone off at that point, sliding it into his coat pocket and getting comfortable. It would be alright. He was roused out of his thoughts again by a young girl pushing her bag into the overhead locker, smiling at him and sitting beside him. They exchanged greetings and chatted for a while, another rumble of thunder making his stomach turn. He couldn't wait to be in the bloody air...

* * *

Arthur learnt that the girl next to him was his age. She was going to Tampa to meet _her_ boyfriend too. Except she actually _knew_ her boyfriend; they'd been together for five years. He was studying there. They were going to drive to DisneyWorld. _She_ thinks he might propose.

Arthur smiled throughout it all, hardly giving anything away as he was unsure what she'd say to him. _Oh, you're flying to meet a _stranger?

_What, you've never met before?_

_Do you even know where he lives?_

_What if he's a murderer?_

_What if he's _married?

Arthur sighed. Alfred wasn't a murderer. God, that man couldn't hurt a fly. He was a doctor, for Christ's sake. No, he definitely wasn't a murderer. Or married. And he did know where he lived, thank you very much. God, was this woman still wittering on? Oh. Her boyfriend owned a Harley, don't you know. Getting a degree in physics. Who bloody goes to Florida to study physics?

Arthur interrupted her when the Cabin Crew passed asking if anyone wanted drinks or snacks, "Tea, please. No, no milk, thanks." Oh, lordy-lord! She was still going! Not even the complimentary bag of pretzels could stop her gushing. Arthur tsked and put his headphones in, relaxing as he watched re-runs of Only Fools and Horses on the plane's entertainment system, chuckling and sipping his tea when there wasn't any turbulence.

He wondered what Alfred was doing, looking out of the window to see the dark Atlantic. He still had to change in Georgia before his second half of the journey, tired at having to change but not minding it so much - that meant it would be around 11 am when he got to the hotel, and that didn't seem so bad. Hopefully Alfred hadn't already gone out when he got there though...

* * *

Atlanta International Airport was a pain in the butt.

A bad pain in the butt.

Arthur scurried to one end only to be told his flight had been changed and was now departing from the opposite end of the airport. In fifteen minutes. Que a tired British man legging it through Atlanta International Airport, not caring who he nearly ran into as he arrived at the right gate with five minutes to spare and a huge sweat patch on his shirt. He boarded quickly, sending Alfred another text before he had to turn his phone off again and they took off, excitement growing and the anticipation burning like a dinky fire in his stomach. He was meeting Alfred in a few hours, and he couldn't bloody wait.

* * *

Alfred sighed as he got a text from Arthur, opening it quickly.

_Artie -_

_Are you at your hotel, love? _

Huh. That was weird. _Yeah sure am, why? You gonna call?_ He was excited at the prospect, but the phone never rang. Alfred laughed in disappointment, setting down his glasses before flicking on the shower and washing his hair, rubbing body-wash suds over his toned, tanned body. Arthur was being so weird lately. It left a funny feeling with Alfred and he wasn't sure what to think, rinsing his hair and splashing his face with the warm water that ran down over his shoulders. He wasn't going far today - maybe to the beach for an hour, but he'd be back by 11 and then he could get changed and have a look around the local shops a little. There was a nice one just down the sea front downtown, sold candles in half coconuts and stuff like that. It was quite cute though. He wouldn't mind looking in there... God, but what to do with Arthur. He should give him a call, but he didn't want to seem too overbearing.

Stepping out of the shower, Alfred turned it off and grabbed a towel, drying himself before re-entering the room and getting changed into a white tee and navy shorts, sliding on his shoes and drying his hair. His friend told him to hurry up, and all worries about Arthur slipped from his mind. He'd call him later on; there was too much going on for him worry about a Brit 4,500 miles away. For now, he was going to the beach.

* * *

Arthur almost leaped from the plane when it landed, itching to get off. His fears had drowned away and now he was as excited as a kid at a fun fair, glancing out of the window and cheering silently as he saw the bright sun and blue skies. Luckily he was able to grab his baggage from the overhead compartment rather quickly, cursing at the queue of people in single file. "Christ, come on-" he grumbled, a little whine escaping him as he grew restless already.

As the other passengers were starting to move Arthur turned on his phone, sending Francis a quick message to let him know he'd landed safely and smiling at the one from Alfred. God, he was so excited. He even brought a bar of Cadbury's chocolate for the American after all he'd said about the heavenly stuff, the bar stuffed between his clean boxer shorts in his case. And yes, they _were_ clean, thank you.

Making his way with the rest of the crowd Arthur passed easily through passport control, despite the long wait, and stood to collect his baggage, foot tapping on the cold stone floor as hordes of luggage made it's way around the conveyor belt. "Sorry, excuse me. E-excuse me. Bloody hell, shift!" Arthur scowled as he squeezed past a crowd of Americans, pulling his hefty suitcase off and nearly his arm at the same time. "Oof!" He cleared his throat and scowled again at the crowds unwilling to let him pass, rolling his eyes. He was sure not all Americans were like that... Hopefully not, anyway.

Arthur exhaled and passed the rest of the checks before finally exiting the airport, the hot air hitting his face suddenly. It was stuffy and he sighed, clearing his throat and hailing down a taxi. He gave him the address of Alfred's hotel, anticipation making him want to squeal.

The taxi was hot. _Too_ hot. It was like an oven in that contraption. Arthur wound down a window, surprised at how old the car was but enjoying the soothing breeze that came through to the back seat, humming at the beautiful, clear water and the white sandy beaches of the area. His temperament grew irritable in the heat, his jeans suffocating and hair ruffling from the breeze. "Fuck, it's hot-" he mumbled, running a hand through his hair and glancing at the shop fronts and hotels they passed, guessing which one Alfred was in and biting his lip when the taxi continued. It felt like forever had passed since he was in England waving Francis off at the check-in desk, Arthur growing tired as he yawned from a combination of lack of sleep and the humidity.

"Here ya go. That'll be $64.70."

Oh. He was there already? Arthur looked out of the window and back to the driver, hand diving into his pocket and fishing his wallet out. He handed over 70 and hoped it was sufficient, climbing out and getting his case before thanking the driver. His heart was beating like he'd just run a marathon, feeling himself grow sweatier. He looked up to the building and let out a pleasant hum; the building seemed nice enough, and it was literally on the beach, a little IHOP joined to it. He peered around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Alfred but shaking his head. He wasn't around yet, maybe he was in his room? "Ah, best check in..." The Brit spoke aloud, wiping his forehead and pushing open the glass doors of the entrance. God, that was nice. Cool air hit him like a ton of bricks, air conditioning on so high it was almost cold in the foyer. "Oh, ah, hello." He introduced himself at reception, a cheerful looking man stood behind the marble-effect desk.

"Hi! Can I help you, Sir?" The cheerful looking man responded. God, that grin looked painful.

"Ah, yes, um- I'm meeting someone, actually-" Arthur confessed, unsure what to say. Francis had booked him a room of course, but it wouldn't hurt to know which room Alfred was in for later.

"Oh! Oh, okay. Uh, do you have a room booked?"

Oh, God. He thought he was a weirdo. Great way to start his holiday with the receptionist thinking he was a freak- "Yes, actually, I-"

"_Artie_?"

Arthur felt his breath catch in his throat and choke him, gasping as he stood frozen. "_Alfred_?" He spoke, eyes wide as he turned. There he was; the man himself. Tall, handsome, muscular... He looked perfect; beautiful. God, Arthur couldn't take his eyes off him. He couldn't speak, body feeling like it was about to double over at the sight of his boyfriend. He was better than he imagined him. Photos didn't do this man justice. Said man stood equally as shocked on the marble floor of the foyer, blinking slow behind his thinly framed glasses as he struggled to make a sentence.

It was then that Arthur noticed the extra person, like a small shadow. Arthur didn't know how he hadn't noticed her before. She was beautiful, too.

Gorgeous golden hair stopped at her shoulders, wavy and soft looking, a sort of sea air look to it. They'd been on the beach, as far as Arthur could tell. Alfred's sandals were sandy. Arthur's eyebrows came together as he frowned, struggling to make sense of it all. "Arthur, I-" Arthur's heart stopped for a moment, glancing down and taking a deep breath. This was all too much...

"Daddy, who's that?"

* * *

**AN:/ Ah, I feel so happy to finally have written this chapter. ****I'm sorry it's been a secret for so long! But alas, Alfred's secret is out. What do you guys think? Did you expect it?**

**Please leave any comments! I honestly get so excited when I get a new one! All are appreciated, (even if it's negative, as long as it is helpful and I can work from it) and they keep me going to write a new chapter! Can't leave it on such a cliffhanger now, can we?**

**Two updates in less than a month too! I'm spoiling you guys. _And_ it is unusually longer than my usual chapters. See, spoiling you. ;)**

**Also, I've had a few people ask for clarification of Arthur/Alfred's age - Arthur is 24 and Alfred 28 at the start of the story! Hope this clears things up.**

**Until next time, **

**BritishTraveller.**


	9. Chapter 9

**_Amy_**

_"Daddy, who's that?"_

Those words had been like bullets to Arthur, little stabs to his heart or any other painful analogy that ran through his head in those five seconds before he let out a choked gasp. _Daddy?_ Oh, God. Jesus fucking Christ- _Alfred was a dad?_

Arthur lowered his head slightly, blinking and choking. He didn't comprehend what was happening, looking back to the little girl and running a hand over his face, turning away and exhaling. He laughed bitterly into the hand covering his face, tensing as he heard Alfred's southern drawl reply to the young girl.

"That... That's _Arthur_, baby. Daddy's... friend."

_Friend? _

Oh.

_Oh._

Arthur swallowed his pride and looked up to the American, jaw set as he looked cockily up to him. "_Friend?" _He noticed how Alfred tensed and Arthur shook his head, puffing out air with a smirk on his face.

Friend.

He forced himself to look back to the Texan, who was suddenly quite pale and, unsurprisingly, looking like he'd regretted his choice of words instantly. The little girl tilted her head to look up at the blond Brit; he was younger than her daddy. She glanced up to her father and started to giggle, Arthur a little offended as to why until he saw the complete look of embarrassment mixed with confusion printed upon Alfred's face.

"Amy, baby, uh- Daddy has to talk, okay? Uh-" he glanced around with a lump in his throat, picking the little girl up suddenly with her legs wrapped around his side. She clung to him like a little monkey, small and quiet and obedient. Alfred licked his lips and sighed, kissing his daughter on the cheek and then going to grab Arthur's suitcase, the other reacting and jolting back suddenly. Alfred felt terrible.

"Arthur, _please. _I- I know this is such a- a- ugh... Just come into IHOP with us? I'll- I'll explain everything, please just come with me-"

His bright blue eyes looked at him worriedly, the broad, muscular man looking quite different from just moments ago.

Arthur soundlessly followed him, lump in his own throat and case being carried behind him. He wanted to shout and scream and hit this God damned son-of-a-bitch because he was a _liar_ and thought everything would be okay with some pancakes when he'd just miraculously forgot to tell the other about his kid. Easy to forget, Arthur assumed with an eye roll.

Alfred sat himself in a booth. There were two couches facing one another with a shiny metal table between them, Alfred sitting the girl quietly down by the window as the waitress smiled and passed her a colouring book, Arthur's glare seemingly scaring her off. Alfred sat across from Arthur and next to his child, making sure she was content enough before looking to the uncomfortable Brit, Amy's bright blue eyes following Alfred's gaze every so often.

Large, warm hands came to rest over Arthur's more slender ones before he stole them back, yanking them away as though his touch was scolding. "Arthur-"

"Don't even _dare."_

Alfred cringed. "It's... It's great to see you. For real, you know-?"

Arthur didn't look half as impressed, jaw still firm. The flushed blond couldn't stop _looking_ at the little girl. She was gorgeous, sort of a little mini-me of Alfred with her sandy blonde locks that came down to her shoulders and the brightest blue eyes Arthur had only ever seen once, the matching pair on his partner. He watched her work the Crayola up and down in a messy fashion, clearly not old enough to be able to colour neatly but still making the effort as she swung her little legs over the edge of the seat.

"I'm sure it is." was Arthur's only reply.

A tired sigh left the other and Alfred blinked slowly, resting his face in the palm of his hands. The air conditioning and fans were loud but kept him from going mad from the silence Arthur was giving him, looking back up and swallowing. "Amy is my daughter. My gorgeous little baby girl-" He smiled fondly and stroked her waves, kissing the top of her head as she smiled with chubby cheeks at Arthur, oblivious to the tension. "She- I... Look, I didn't tell you because I thought you'd freak out. I mean, hah, who signs up to a dating site when they have a kid, right? I just... I thought things were going well, and God, they _are, _because you're so dang gorgeous and sweet and-"

"Alfred-"

"-and I didn't wanna throw a spanner in the works, ya'no? I mean, I should'a told you before, darlin', I know that... But I was scared how you would react and I felt I'd gone in too deep and-"

"Alfred-"

"-and _God, _you're beautiful in the flesh, Arthur." The American went to take his hands once more but pulled them away, Arthur looking so dreadfully uncomfortable and meek in the booth alone. Alfred sighed. "When... When did ya get here?"

Arthur swallowed. "About an hour ago."

"Oh."

An uncomfortable silence followed suit once more, Arthur opening his mouth to speak before faulting. "...Why didn't you just tell me?"

The other rested his right elbow on the table and rubbed his forehead and temple, scratching the back of his neck afterwards and shrugging. "I thought you'd get mad." Alfred couldn't focus on Arthur, eyes straying from the glimmering tabletop to the little girl parked beside him, happily squiggling away on the back of the children's menu. "She's four. Amy is her nickname."

Arthur frowned. He felt betrayed, confused and quite alone despite the restaurant being half full. "I wouldn't have gotten mad if you'd just told me at the start."

Alfred nodded silently.

"Daddy?"

Arthur tensed.

"Yeah, baby?" Alfred responded softly, smiling down at her and cupping her cheek, brushing the soft hair from her face, "What's up?"

The little girl pouted, lip out and shining blue eyes focused entirely on him. "Is Arthur your girlfriend?"

Arthur blushed and smiled a little, looking down and trying not to chuckle at her adorableness. He was still mad, after all.

"Yeah, Arthur and Daddy are together, darlin'. Ya'no, like me an' your mommy when you were little?"

"Oh! So Arthur's my new mommy?"

Alfred brought his brows together in almost a frown, stuttering and looking up to Arthur shyly. "Uh-"

"I'm going to my room." Arthur announced suddenly, uncomfortable and pained and watching the exchange between the father-and-daughter making him hurt even more. He didn't _care_ that Alfred had a kid, it was just the fact he hadn't even _mentioned_ it. He rose awkwardly, looking at the bright-eyed girl and smiling lightly. "We'll see, love." He shot Alfred a look and swallowed, exhaling and picking up his suitcase as he turned to leave, Alfred unsure what to do or even say in this situation. To be honest, Arthur didn't know either. He just wanted to go to his room and lie down and just cry, or do _anything_ but think of Alfred lying to him for the past few months. It felt like they'd been together for years, but Arthur couldn't even remember when they'd started talking and when it had turned into dating and, frankly, he didn't give a flying _fuck_ in that moment. He didn't even look back as he reentered reception and approached the employee at the counter, taking his keys with a small thank you and wheeling his suitcase around the corner to where the lifts stood. God, everything felt like it was falling apart.

* * *

Alfred watched Arthur go with a hard heart. They should never have met like this- No, Christ. It was _never_ supposed to have been like this. Alfred had wanted to surprise Arthur by flying over to the UK after their first year together maybe. They'd hug and kiss and just hold each other like lovers separated by a long war would when their beloved came home. Alfred had wanted to be the one to surprise Arthur, not the other way around. Sure, he was over the moon to see the Brit; his cheeks were a little rosier than his profile picture and he looked to have had more freckles dotting his face, dusted mainly over his nose and cheeks, though Alfred guessed he'd have them over his arms, and possibly his legs too. Arthur was sweeter than honey, hair a lovely mixture of a sort of sandy blond, soft looking and so fitting to him. His eyebrows were just as they were on his profile picture, too. They were ever so slightly large but framed his face perfectly and Alfred felt himself choking up as he thought about everything he could lose so quickly just because of one secret.

One damn stupid secret, too. Amelia was beautiful, a little star. He loved her so much he always thought his heart would burst when she did that little giggle of hers at one of his funny faces, or when she smiled so sweetly with those dimpled chubby cheeks of hers, always rosy. She was as sweet as any kid her age but knew when to be quiet and obedient, but was equally as excited and curious when she wanted to be. Yes, Alfred loved her completely. He loved Arthur too.

He sighed, rubbing his temples before Amelia tugged at his shirt sleeve and told him not to be sad anymore; Art'ur would be okay after a nap, according to her.

And Alfred just smiled, petting her hair and holding her close, shuffling out of the seat and picking her up. "I know, baby. You wanna go back to the beach or see Uncle Matty?"

"Uncle Matty. You need'ta go see Art'ur." Alfred had to smile at her persistence. Perhaps if he said everything going on in his head it wouldn't be so bad, maybe Arthur would understand and see it wasn't that big a deal after all. It was nothing they couldn't get past together. Arthur looked fond of Amy already- Alfred smiled at his daughter, taking her back to the pool where his brother sat and letting her perch beside him where he lay reading.

"I thought you were getting something from the room, Al? Aren't you going shopping-?" The elder asked curiously, putting his bookmark in and shuffling up for Amelia to sit down with her legs swinging.

He started, "Yeah, well I-"

"Daddy's new girlfriend is here, Uncle Matty." Amelia said with a giggle, the hazy-blue eyed man frowning and looking to his brother for an explanation until Amelia answered for him. "_Art'ur, silly!_ Daddy's girlfriend Art'ur turned up and got sad with daddy and went to his room for a nap." She explained confidently, Matt groaning and looking to his idiot brother with an exasperated look.

"Wow, Al. Wow.."

* * *

AN:/ Uncle Matty is here to slap some sense into Alfred! Yay! What did you guys think of Amelia and Arthur's reaction to her? I decided to be nice and upload the chapter a few months earlier than I normally do... Thank you all for the amazing reviews! Getting so many made me so happy, I couldn't wait to start writing! Hopefully chapter 10 will be up soon.

Thank you all again!

Until next time,

\- BritishTraveller.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Apologies**_

Matthew Williams had never known his brother to be so stupid. Well, he _had_, but this was an entirely _new_ form of stupid. He sighed as he watched Alfred inflate Amelia's _Avengers_ armbands and ran a hand through soft blond locks, ruffling it and shaking his head. Alfred had fucked up big time. He gave Amy a little wave as she called her uncle Matty, now splashing in the kiddie pool while Alfred sat on the sunbed next to him, legs over the edge and parted as he rested elbows on his knees and his head in his palms.

"Matt, what am I going to do?" The younger brother asked, and Matthew grunted in response before standing and making his way over to the pool bar, returning two minutes later with two cold drinks. "Thanks..."

"Alfred, I don't know. I honestly don't know how you could be so stupid." Matthew started, Alfred about to intervene when the other stopped him with a raised palm. "Al, seriously. You're struggling. You have a child and a very demanding job and then you go finding British boyfriends online, where they're in another time-zone! It's like you're trying to set yourself up for a nervous breakdown!" He complained, taking a long sip of his drink. "If you really want my opinion," He started, looking as Alfred nodded eagerly, "then I think you should consider dropping your job and find a new one with better hours. That, and sorting things out with Arthur. Fast. You need to show him you regret not telling him. Listen to him too, I want you to hear how he feels too, Alfred. Look, Al. I just don't think you thought this all through."

Grunting, Alfred just sipped his own drink, watching his little girl from afar and wondering how he could have fucked up so badly. Arthur should sympathise with him, not go off in a hissy fit after surprising him on holiday! God, Matt just didn't understand. He wasn't a surgeon with a four year old daughter to raise on his own. That was hard enough, without a long-distance relationship on top of that.

"Yeah." He mumbled, pouting like a young child. Matthew rolled his eyes.

"Al, you need to get up there; Explain yourself. Arthur isn't just going to go _poof!_ and suddenly be completely fine with you having a daughter after lying to him."

Alfred squirmed by the pool. "Hey, I didn't lie! I just... hid the truth..."

Matthew sighed once more, glancing at his niece. "You have to do whats best for everyone. Amy isn't going to understand unless you tell her, and that's the same with Arthur. Go on, go up there. Go to his room. I'll watch Amy."

The younger brother looked up quickly, eyes wide. "You'll watch her? While I go sort out my love-life?" He sounded hopeful, and Matthew couldn't help but smile at his brother's childishness.

"Of course. Now go, shoo! We'll be fine." He grinned, standing and making his way over to the shallow kid's pool. "Just make sure you sweeten him up!"

* * *

After dumping his case so bluntly beside the door of his hotel room, Arthur flopped himself onto the bed and had a good cry. He then wondered why he'd come to bloody America in the first place. He got out his phone and sent Francis a hearty 'Fuck you, fuck everything' before bursting into tears for a second time, pillowcase becoming wet and tear stained. Why hadn't Alfred just mentioned it before? Arthur wouldn't have given a toss! A child is hardly a reason for a relationship to fail, but the secret was so well hidden and Arthur hadn't suspected it at all. Part of him had wished he was cheating instead, and then his lip trembled and his eyes watered and he buried himself into the bedding once again.

His phone buzzed, interrupting his self-pity party, and he had to write out a very shoddy, badly spelled text message to Francis explaining that Alfred had a child and he was now cooped up in his hotel room waiting for the pits of Hell to engulf him right now.

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Everything was different now.

Arthur couldn't imagine them sharing a moment together anymore, not with Amelia there. He had imagined them spending cold nights wrapped in each others' arms, talking about trivial things while the TV played one of their favourite films. With Amelia they'd have to move up, let her join in the cuddles Arthur wanted so badly to have.

He couldn't believe he was getting jealous of a four year old. Amelia had had Alfred all this time, and Arthur felt himself grow envious of that fact.

And bitter. Alfred had wanted to hide Arthur from her, and hide Amelia from him. Was he embarrassed of Arthur? Maybe he just wanted a fling. Maybe he wasn't anything too big in Alfred's life-

There was knocking coming from the door.

Arthur knew who it was already.

_Knock knock knock- "Art? Art, please, please open up."_

Arthur had a mind to ignore the incessant knocking and just sleep the blasted noise away, but it was still bright and hot outside and _Jesus Christ would that knocking stop?!_ Huffing, Arthur, with mild irritation, unchained the door and swung it open, a dumbfounded Alfred looking at him while Arthur clenched his jaw. "_What_?" He practically hissed, but Alfred was already barging his way in and tripping over Arthur's suitcases before Arthur even had a thought to warn him. He smirked in victory as Alfred stumbled.

"And _what_ would _you_ want?" Arthur sneered, Alfred almost cowering as he perched at the end of the bed.

"I came to apologise."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. They were still pink and puffy from the crying, and his shirt hung off him like it were miles too big. He was rather dubious; was Alfred going to confess his greatest sins or just _apologise,_ apologise? Arthur supposed it wouldn't hurt for him to find out. "Mmhm?"

Alfred almost shivered. "Yeah. I- I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner about Amy. It was hard. I wanted you to like me; I didn't want you to go off me by knowing I had baggage."

"Amelia is not _'baggage'_." Arthur interjected.

Alfred continued, "-I know. Yeah, I know that. But some women, and men, don't. They think, _Oh, Lord. He has a kid. Better dodge that one_! I- I had no time to confess. No time was the right time. I only ever got to talk to you when Amy was with my Mom and Dad or when I was at work, and I only ever got to see Amy before she was going to bed at Mom's or the odd day I could take her to school or whatever. I- I didn't know when to tell you. I wanted to tell you why I was coming on holiday, I mean, I _did_, but I wanted a break with _Amy_, too. I wanted to treat her and show her how good a dad I can actually be and give my folks a rest. I didn't think you'd actually come... But you did. An' I'm glad you did." Alfred smiled, though it was slightly strained from the emotional turmoil he was evidently going through. Arthur returned it dubiously as he rested his backside against the dresser.

"You're amazing, Arthur. I was lucky to meet you, and fall in love with you. It sounds cheesy, I know, but I was head over heels for ya! I didn't want to disappoint you. You're just so perfect, and it got harder when I couldn't talk to you from our busy work schedules on the other side of the globe. In all seriousness though, I love you, Arthur Kirkland. And I wanna be with you, if you just give me a chance. Amy was sayin' how much she likes you already by the pool. She was tellin' Matt."

Arthur smiled, though it was small and tired. "Alfred, I don't care. I don't care that you have a daughter. I just wish you'd have _told_ me, you know?" He watched the other nod and sighed. "I..." he bit his lip, "I love the idea of being with you. Even if it isn't ideal. You seem so good with Amelia. I don't want to overreact, but this is a big thing, Alfred. It's a big thing."

"I know. I understand." Alfred agreed, a big lump of Labrador sat on Arthur's bed. "I just don't want to lose you, man."

Clearing his throat, Arthur spoke next. "And I you. I just want you to understand where I'm coming from. I speak to a man every single day for- I can't even _remember_ how long-, I fly all the way across the Atlantic to surprise him, and there he is. Leading, practically, a double life with a child I had no idea about. I didn't know what to do! I half expected a wife to come bouncing along with another child, to be frank with you. I just never expected it, Alfred. You can see why I am upset."

Alfred nodded. "I do, I-"

"Alfred, I still want to be with you. Ha, I'd be an idiot if I didn't, but I don't trust you. I _can't_, not after this bombshell. But I want to enjoy this holiday, and work around this bump. Will you be prepared to work with me? Work together on this? I want you to earn your trust back. I want to get to know Amy and fall in love with her too, but- but this is all so much so suddenly and I don't know where to start." he confessed, big grass-green eyes looking to Alfred's sky blue ones, both wary.

"Lets start here. C'mon, I- I'll take you out for a date or somethin'. Matt has Amy. We can start this day afresh.." He gave a soft smile to the Brit, blinking and pushing up his glasses before standing and making his way over to the other. He took his soft hands within his own, "I love you, Art. Honest to God, I love you. I've never met anyone with such gorgeous eyes as you-" Alfred sidetracked, hand on Arthur's chin now as the other looked away. "Let me kiss you? Please, I've been dying to since we started talking all those months ago. I'm sorry we didn't start your holiday as you wanted. But, heh, my room is only two doors away, anyway. I can always sneak in, huh?" He added cheekily, Arthur smirking and pressing their lips together.

"You're not entirely in my good books, but it's a good start. I love you too, Alfred, you big oaf."

* * *

**AN:/ Hi! I am sooooo sorry for the long wait. I just wanted to say thank you so much for everyone who has messaged, reviewed and the like, inquiring when I will be updating and for leaving such lovely comments. I hope this chapter was enough for you for now; I have plans for chapter 11 already and college starts again in just under two weeks so I am definitely hoping to update before that!**

**Thank you guys for the kudos, reviews, comments, follows, subscriptions, bookmarks, favourites and everything in between! If there is anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask me! **

**Until next time!**

**-BritishTraveller.**


End file.
